Giving You the Slip
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: It wasn't nice for Harper, knowing that he had magog growing inside him, that sooner or later those magog would hatch, tearing him apart from the inside. Knowing this, there was only one course of action - get drunk.


**Giving You the Slip**

"So, there ya have it luv. Time travelled five-thousand years into the future."

"Oh."

"Oh. That's it?"

"Yep. Oh."

There were actually a number of reasons why Harper believed Lena Oxton's account of being chronally disassociated, that she'd come from 5000 years in the past by chance to _Manchester Drift_. First of all, time travel was possible – he'd seen that awhile ago back at Witchhead, not to mention Dylan's brief reunion with Sara at Hephaistos (courtesy of Harper himself). Second of all, that someone else had access to this kind of tech wasn't out of the blue – only recently the ship had had to deal with tesseracting psychopaths, one of whom had been a gorgeous babe (salt on the wound, he'd called it). Third of all, even discounting points one and two, he would have still believed the self-declared time traveller. He'd believe anything because with magog clawing away in his belly, he considered himself open to all kinds of possibilities, including the notion that maybe he'd get the little bastards out of him before they tore him a new one.

And fourth of all, he was drunk.

He hadn't flown here being drunk – he'd flown here on a slipfighter after Beka told him in no uncertain terms that she'd flay him within an inch of his life if he took the _Maru _for another joyride after the AP cannons short-circuited. Sooner or later, _Andromeda _would come for him. Sooner or later, he'd be back to square zero – Seamus Zelazny Harper, living on borrowed time, waiting for the point where the magog killed him, or he put a gauss round through his skull. He figured it was only fair that he try and enjoy his last days in this universe. Days that were free from Beka in one of her mood swings, Dylan yammering on about some backwater world wanting to join the Commonwealth, Rev Bem acting like _he _was the one who'd been damaged on the Worldship (provided the Wayist was even around), or Tyr being…well, Tyr. Days that not even Trance could brighten anymore.

"Lonely luv?"

He looked at Lena. Black hair, a strange device on her chest, clothing that was relatively modest all things considered.

"Nah," he slurred. "I mean…got nothin' to lose, y'know? I mean…on the ship…Rom-Doll…she's got a thing for me."

"Didn't you describe her as an ice queen bitch who wouldn't know a real man if he-"

"The captain!" Harper slurred, thumping down the blue liquor on the table, spilling it. It had lost all taste by now, and he found himself in need of a Sparky Cola.

_Note to self – go out on a sugar high._

"She got…stuff…captain!" Harper slurred again. "I gave…body…don't do…nothin'…with body…"

"Well luv," Lena said. "You want a woman to luv ya, ya gotta go beyond the body, ya know?"

Harper looked up at her. "That a challenge?"

She shrugged. "I like challenge."

"Oh. Right." Harper hiccupped. "So, here's…challenge…get these…magog…from me…"

"Magog?"

"Yeah!" He let the grog spill over, earning him a dirty look from the passing umbrite waitress. "Little bastards inside (he hiccupped) me!" He began fiddling with the medicine capsule attached around his neck. "This little thing here? Only…thing…stopping…hic…"

"Poor guy," Lena said, patting him on the back. "And just think – all this grog, you won't be able to fly home."

"Ah…got…auto-pilot…"

"Course," Lena said, getting up. "You'll need an access key to get inside your ship. I mean, I'm a pilot myself, and need a slipstream-capable starship to return to my own time." She chuckled, patting her chest. "Heh, time."

Harper glanced at her. His left pocket felt empty. His right hip felt lighter. Staring through the neon lights of the bar, he saw Lena dangling two things – a gauss pistol, and his access key to the slipfighter.

"Cheers luv."

And then she was gone. Off in a blue stream of light.

_The little witch._

Harper ignored the exclamations of the crowd. Of course that's why she'd endured him. Satrina had only got close to him for the info he'd had on the Abyss. Lena had only got close to him because she wanted a free ride…and not in the copulation sense.

_Shame. I'd have ridden you anytime._

Harper lay his head down on the table. Maybe if he hadn't felt like a Nietzschean was sitting on his head he could have tried to gone after her. Maybe if he'd even cared. But returning to _Andromeda _and saying "sorry guys, but we've got one less slipfighter" was small fry to what he'd say (or scream) when the magog crawled out of him.

_Bastards._

He looked up at the waitress. The one person who wasn't exclaiming about the vanishing woman. Through the haze that covered his eyes, he met hers. And managed to form two words.

"'nother round."


End file.
